


A Gunshot to the Head of Trepidation

by Bloodwolf



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22711708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodwolf/pseuds/Bloodwolf
Summary: Harry Du Bois and anesthesia don't mix well.
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 104





	A Gunshot to the Head of Trepidation

**Author's Note:**

> Yo.
> 
> I wanted to get this out before Valentine's day, but hey day of works too. 
> 
> Pokemon is a very bad distraction.
> 
> _I named my sobble Kim._
> 
> Anyway here you go. I need fluff and well. Sometimes you gotta do shit yourself.
> 
> Title is from the Trivium song of the same name.

He said it was just a follow up on a witness.

"I'll be fine," Harry Du Bois, Precinct 41's recovering disaster insisted, "I'm just confirming some of our notes."

Normally Kim Kitsuragi, the newest transferee to Precinct 41, would never leave Harry to his own devices during a case and normally, the detective wouldn't even try to go off on his own. But today was an especially grueling day, nearly filled to the brim with delinquents of all things. And so much running.

Kim just wanted his smoke. And a bath. Maybe both at once. 

So Harry, being the empathetic bastard that he is, insisted that Kim head on straight back to the apartment, and take a breather. He'll just do this one tiny thing and come straight home, maybe even bring take out for dinner. 

The detective knew how to pick Kim at his weakness, so he begrudgedly accepted, taking the key to Harry's apartment and watched as he shuffles away out of the precinct.

It took him nearly a hour to leave however. Something didn't sit right with the lieutenant, so he organised the papers on his desk. When he was finished, he did the same with Harry's. After that, Kim finally decides to head home and stop worrying so much, but as he left the office, Judith shouted at him from across the room urgent and harrowing. What came next made Kim's heart stop and his blood run ice. 

Harry got shot.

___

The hospital is eerringly quite this evening, only the chatter of overworked nurses and doctors who overworked even longer linger outside the room. Kim breathes in the over familiar smell of antiseptic and and comes to realize that he hates it. The room is too white, too clean. 

Harry got out of surgery half hour ago. His still form lies still in the cot, steadily breathing alongside the insistent beeping of the machines next to him. 

The doctor said he's stable. The relief the followed was a bullet on its own. Shot in the waist, he found out. Barely missed his vitals.

Harry is one lucky cop.

What Kim didn't understand was why they put the man on morphine of all things. Don't they have it on record that he was a recovering addict? Either way, Kim may need to watch him over the next few weeks...

A groan. Kim is up before he even realizes it and he watches for a moment, studying Harry's pained face in relief before calling for a nurse, who comes in a flash of white. After that, he groans again, this time moving to cover his eyes from the bright lights. Kim had to pull Harry's arm down to his side, so he doesn't pull his wound. 

"Easy there, Harry," the lieutenants voice is small, only for him. "You got shot, don't move so much, or you'll pull the stitches." Again, he wanted to add, thinking back to the lone island in the Martinaise.

Harry doesn't say anything, only stares incredulously at Kim. His face is sporting a strange amalgamation of pain, bewilderment and confusion as the nurse checks his vitals. 

"Who... Are you?"

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Kim couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth and for the first time since the tribunal, he was incredibly afraid. His famous composure was starting to crack when the nurse leaned over the bed and into his ear.

"It's okay, officer," the aging woman said, straightening the bedsheets. "It's a normal side effect of the anesthesia. He'll be back once he gets more rest." With a small smile, she leaves room, most likely going to tell the doctor, leaving Kim alone with the dumbfounded dectective.

Kim sighs, the fear lingering turning into a mild headache, and Harry tilts his head at the lieutenant, still awaiting an answer to his previous question. He realizes that he still has his hand on Harry's arm.

"Hello, Harry," Kim starts off slow, "I am dectective Kim Kitsuragi. I'm your partner." The lieutenant doesn't want to overload the dectective in this state, so he delves into the minor information. 

He could see the gears work through the injured man, processing this new information. He's a lot more calmer here then the day they met at the Martinaise, when he reeked with alcohol and other questionable substances.

"Partner?" Kim nods, slightly calmer now that Harry is taking this so well. The bedridden dectective tilts his head to the side, like a curious child. It was almost cute.

"Like... Boyfriends?" 

The lieutenant's famous composure cracks yet again, only this time in complete shock.

"Wow," Harry's face starts to light up in pure jubilation and Kim finds it hard to find a word in between his amazement. "But you're so gorgeous." He throws a weary hand across his own face as his eyes regard Kim with mirth. "I hit a jackpot."

Kim does not blush. It doesn't matter if it's been so long since anyone even remotely said anything like that at him, and it doesn't matter if he has actually wanted Harry to say those things to him, he does not blush. However, he does feel heat. "Harry-"

The detective glosses over with a wave of sudden weariness, most likely because of the morphine, but his eyes never left Kim's face and his voice lowers to an almost reverent tone. "Dolores Dei herself would even marvel at you."

Is this even the morphine still? Despite the possible blasphemy, it sounds so genuinely Harry that it makes Kim's heart hurt and his lungs seize his breath. He didnt even realize that his hand is still on Harry's arm until the lucid dectective tugged his glove until his clammy hand weakly covered Kim's own. From there, he mumbles something faint under his breath, behind the losing battle with the drugs. Then he finally succumbs, still holding the lieutenants hand.

If he said what Kim heard, then the hand feels almost bittersweet.

__

_(That could have gone better, sire.)_

Harry pulls himself out of a deep and, for once, dreamless slumber. His side throbs with a numb ache as the detective opens his eyes to blinding white. To his left, he hears rhythmic beeps of his heart. To his right, the first thing he sees is a chair draped with a familiar orange bomber jacket. 

Then, at the foot of his cot, a tall, dark and very angry former partner stands toying with an unlit cigerette in his fingers. 

_(That's not who you want to see when you woke up.)_

_('Angry' barely scratches the surface. He's completely livid.)_

_(Try not to rile him up. He looks like he'll explode at any second.)_

"Owch." It hurts to speak, but the detective got it out all the same.

At the sound of Harry's whine, Jean Vicquemare breaks the stick in half, in suprise or anger, Harry can't tell. The man shoves the broken stick in his suit jacket and he breathes. _"Harry."_

Harry brings his hand down on his face, rubbing away the sweat that gathered. His hand is oddly warm compared to the rest of him. His eyes glance at the abandoned bomber. "Where's Kim?"

Jean nods his head in the direction of the door behind him. "Convinced him to take a shower. He's been here since you been brought in."

_(Behind him you hear the sound of running water, slightly muted by the door.)_

"What," the gruff lieutenant pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep himself in check, "happened."

_(Do NOT point out the obvious. He wants details.)_

"I... Went over to the witness' apartment," Harry mind is still a bit hazy, but he still recalls what happened, at least up until the shot. "I knocked. His light was on and I heard movement, but he wouldn't answer, so I knocked again. And again."

_(And again, and again.)_

"Finally he answered and he had a suitcase behind him. And a station ticket. I asked him about it, he panicked, pulled out a gun and there." Remembering the shot makes Harry's side pound, but the blissful drip of morphine pulsing through his body numbs it to the point of near pleasure.

_(That's the stuff, Harry boy!)_

Jean sighs, loud enough for Harry to tell that he's tired, "That's it?"

"All I can remember." Jean sighs, _again_. The officer's constant sighing is making Harry a tad nervous, but at least he isn't being yelled at. Yet.

"Not even when you 'tanked'," he throws air quotes, not his phrasing, "the bullet and cuffed him to the handrail outside the apartment?"

_(You're welcome.)_

Harry shakes his head. He opened his mouth to apologise, but Jean stops him short with a raised palm. Visibly, he deflates, the anger blowing out of him like a helium balloon. At this point, the officer is just more tired than angry.

"Don't apologise to me," he gripes, then points his thumb back at the bathroom door behind him. "If anything, apologise to your _boyfriend_. He looked like a fucking widow when I got here."

Something tugs in Harry's chest. It's not the first time Jean made implications about the two of them, but this is the first time the light tease brought a reaction out of the detective. Namely a headache. Groaning, he rubs his temples and that's when it hits him.

It hits him hard. 

_(If only the rest of your memories came back as hard.)_

_(Let's hope not.)_

"Dolores Dei's _tits_ Jean."

_"Hey."_

Harry ignores the other officers indignant protest. "I fucking called Kim my boyfriend."

Jean could only stare back. Bewildered, he was about to interject, but Harry hastily cuts him off, "I called him gorgeous, Jean." At this, the officer turns his head to the door behind him, where the said lieutenant resides.

_(He's trying to see what you see. He fails.)_

_(Because his eyesight's worse than Kim's, but that's besides the point.)_

"I compared him to _Dolores fucking Dei_." Harry croaks, sounding more and more vexed.

_(Kim's only as spirital as the next guy, but even the most hardcore of naysayers would gawk at being compared to the Innocince.)_

Then he remembers the last thing he said, right before the drugs dragged him under, and the detectives face lights into fire.

Jean couldn't stand to hear him go on, so he throws a broken bit piece of his cigerette at Harry, who lurches and gapes at the offending officer. "You mean you two weren't fucking this whole time?"

_(The 'boyfriend' jabs were serious, sire.)_

The shock of the sudden outburst combined with dizzying mortification sort of throws the detective for a haze, barely able to squeeze out an answer clearly. "Um... No?"

_(Certinly not for the lack of trying.)_

The loud, almost exaggerated sigh is back. 

_(He lost réal.)_

But something indescribable veils the officers face as he regards Harry with astute eyes, scarce of any of the usual anger or weariness present.

_(Hope.)_

"You want that shit to be true?"

Harry has never answered a question so quickly, confidently, in his life. Not without the Voices taking hold first.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Behind Jean, the detective could hear the sound of a faucet turning, and the water cease. The officer hears it too, and with that he composes himself back into the more familiar grumpy former partner. With a crinkle of his nose, he points at Harry and hisses. "Lung Day is coming up. Assuming we won't be called in en masse for ritual fires again, _get your shit together and talk to him._ "

_(That sounded better coming from Kim.)_

_(But is he wrong? You and Kim have been dancing around each other for months now. It's now or never.)_

To think that Jean of all people would actually help. Feeling marginally better, Harry mutters out a small 'thanks', only to be met with a gruff, but insincere, dismissal. "Don't mention it. Please."

_(He's watched you destroy yourself for a better part of a decade. If he could help it, he would prevent it for happening again.)_

With that, and a small curtcy glance at the detective, the satellite officer leaves, crooning about the captain tearing him a new one. 

Now, Harry is alone with what may be his entire future at stake.

_(It's not that dramatic.)_

The Voices start to chatter animately, throwing out suggestions and detailed instructions, giving Harry an even larger headache then when he first woke up. It wasn't long untill The door clickes open, and Kim walks out, with a cheap hospital towel being dragged through his damp hair, and for a moment the detective feels relieved.

_(There is a myriad of emotions running through the lieutenant, and his own composure is being held by a thread, but he feels it to; the crippling relief.)_

_(It reminds you of the tribunal, waking up to him standing over you in vigalince, sewing his composure back together with his One Cigarette at ten in the morning.)_

"Harry," Kim's breathes out as he walk back to his place next to the cot, on the old chair. He still smells faintly of nicotine.

_(Hygine was the last thing in the lieutenants mind. He only went just to placate Jean.)_

"Hi, Kim." The detective awkwardly replies, followed by a small wave.

_(You moron.)_

It made Kim stammer though, and it's the closest thing to a laugh Harry can get out of him at this moment. "How do you feel?"

Honestly is the best policy. "Like shit." 

"Lieutenant Vicquemare?" He actually doesn't care, he just wants to put off the inevitable.

"Just left. Most likely to terrorise some poor children." 

Kim nods with a shadow if a grin. He asks about the incident, and Harry replies with his version of events, including part Jean helpfully provided. Then he scolds, telling Harry that no matter the circumstances, he should never go confront a witness alone. Harry tries to say that it was Kim himself that accepted the offer to leave first, but the lieutenant is having none of it. Another altered reality of what Kim says happened. 

After, he grows quiet, holding on to the edge of the cot, asking in a voice too calm, too stoney, if he remembers anything else. It all comes down to this.

_(A part of him hopes you don't remember, even after all this time and buildup between you two, getting too personal scares the lieutenant. But the light he shines for you outmatch those dark feeling by a long shot.)_

_(Nonetheless, he's still giving you an out. Say no and all is the same.)_

_Fuck that._

"Yeah. I kinda do." 

_(A thin hair on that small thread breaks.)_

"It's okay, detective," Kim amends quickly, the dark side of him pulling forth. "It was just the drugs." 

Another out, one that Harry doesn't take. "If it helps any, I wasn't lying." Not once has the detective ever lied to Kim, and he doesn't think drugged Harry would break the pattern.

_(Another strand pops.)_

The lieutenant's glovless hands grip the rails of the bed, turning them into a ghastly white. Harry hand is close to them. "I'm not _her_." His famous deadpan cracks.

The slight mention of the Woman made Harry skin chill. Kim knows about the nightmares that plague Harry often, knows about the deep chasm that she left behind. The lieutenant has seen a picture of her, a picture tossed to the back of Harry's closet with enough force to dent and crack. Kim knows he can't compare. But why would that stop Harry? "If anything, that's a _good_ thing."

_(One last push.)_

Kim breathes, regarding Harry with one last shaky, hard look. Just one last time. "...You said something. Before you passed out. Repeat it to me." 

A request Harry is all to happy to comply as his hand reaches Kim's on the rail. Familiar warmth washes over him.

"I love you."

_(The thread finally breaks with little fanfare, and every emotion he's felt the past few hours spills out. Relief, embarrassment, amusement and most of all love.)_

The kiss that's shared between them tastes like Astras, and it's by far the best thing the both of them have ever tasted.

**Author's Note:**

> Temporary amnesiac Harry is just a series of failed checks. With EC taking over.


End file.
